


Can't Seem to Find the Angels for the Devils

by Bluehaven4220



Series: Benny and June: Not Like the Movies [4]
Category: due South
Genre: Broken Hearts, Dreams and Nightmares, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 23:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10775013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluehaven4220/pseuds/Bluehaven4220
Summary: “Ray, I can’t ask Dad this, but do you ever get that feeling in your chest, that if you let something sit there and do nothing about it, it’ll eat you alive?”“That’s called heartbreak, kiddo.”In the same universe as "The Water's Edge and the Harbour Town", "Comes and Goes in Waves", "The Wishing Doll", and "Moving Clocks Run Slow"





	Can't Seem to Find the Angels for the Devils

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for some mature subject matter, cursing, and post-traumatic responses. I've tried to handle the subject with care. Please let me know if anything needs to change.
> 
> Currently unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

Abigail Fraser awoke early the first morning after being home from visiting her grandparents in Fort Norman, having met the famed Ray Kowalski the night before, shaking. Sitting up in bed, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stared into the dark. She didn’t even glance at her alarm clock as she pulled on her housecoat and went out to the living room in the dark, careful not to make a sound. Although if she had, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference. There were days she’d swear up and down that her father had bat-like hearing. If she sneezed in her sleep in the other room, he’d hear it and come to check on her.

Strange the things you think about early in the morning, isn’t it?

She blinked to get her bearings in the dark and made her way into the kitchen, pulling the coffee maker forward. Things would be much clearer after some coffee. It had just been a dream after all. A horrible dream. Perhaps it was a good thing that it was still dark out, and it didn’t look like her dad was up yet, which in itself was a miracle. She supposed that Ray had somehow convinced him that sleeping past five in the morning was not considered slovenly, but instead something to enjoy every once in awhile. In any case, she was sure she’d never been more grateful for the quiet in her life. It would help her sort of her thoughts.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee and adding a little milk to it, she went and sat on the couch, staring out the window and watching the sun rise. She’d forgotten just how peaceful it could be.

And for reasons she couldn’t explain, but most likely because of that dream, she felt her shoulders start to shake. She covered her mouth, wishing she still had the handkerchief Ray Vecchio had given her at the age of twelve, when they first moved to Chicago. Unfortunately she couldn’t remember where it had disappeared to. A small sob escaped her throat, but it was enough. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and luckily she had the sense to set her coffee cup down on the table before whatever this was went any further.

Coffee cup squared away, Abigail found she had just enough strength to bring her knees up and put her head on her lap, but then she couldn’t stop herself. Trying to muffle the sound, the floodgates had opened, and soon she was too far gone to notice anyone else around her. It was as though her entire body was on fire, the floor had fallen out from beneath her feet, her breath caught in her throat, even the sound of a bedroom door opening and someone coming into the living room wasn’t enough to distract her.

Someone was in front of her, touching her arm, and she looked up to see her father, concern written all over it all over his face.

Her face crumpled as she sat up and held out her arms, feeling as though she was a child once more, needing her father to hold her close and chase the monsters away. But there weren’t any monsters this time, just an inexplicable need to cry. Then again, he’d once told her that when the tears were on the outside, the inside was healing.

And he didn’t hesitate. He got up off his knees and sat on the couch with her, rocking her as though she were a baby.

“It’s alright, baby girl,” he whispered, rubbing circles on her back to calm her. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

“Daddy, I’m so sorry…” she sobbed, clutching at his nightshirt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I… I just…”

“It’s okay, Abby,” he soothed. “It’s okay.”

If he said anything else, she didn’t hear it. Whatever this was, it had such a hold on her that if she didn’t let it run its course, she was sure it was going to kill her. She still couldn’t catch her breath, and she couldn’t explain why. She’d already ruined the day before it’d gotten started, what else could possibly go wrong?

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she felt herself relax, and the fog in her head clearing. Her father’s arms  still held her tightly, whispering soft Inuktitut. Somehow everything seemed clearer now.

Blurry-eyed and gummy mouthed, she looked around the room for a glass of water. At least, she _thought_ she’d brought some in with her from the kitchen when she'd first poured her coffee. Either way, strong arms released her and helped her sit up. She hadn’t needed to ask. As soon as she was upright, her dad held a glass of water to her lips; she sipped at it.

“There you go,” she heard as she handed the glass back. As her eyes adjusted and she woke herself up, she felt her dad running his hand over her hair, sweeping it out of her face. Saying nothing else, he waited for her to speak.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured again against his shirt. “I only wanted to watch the sun come up. I woke up because I’d been dreaming about Grandmother and Grandfather, and then Mom…” she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “And then thinking about them turned into a dream about Charles Carver. And this time I was older and he wasn’t going to leave me alone!”

ooOoo

My poor girl. No wonder she’d been crying. Granted, she’d been trying to stay quiet, but we both knew that sometimes, you just couldn’t. “You haven’t had a dream about him in quite a while.” I wanted nothing more than to make my way over to wherever he was being held (he’d been locked away with a life sentence, no chance of parole), and beat him to death for what he’d done to Abby all those years ago. “Are you fully awake now?”

“I can feel something stinging the back of my neck…” Abby answered, and I just feel her shoulder shaking in the dark. “Daddy, can you check? Is there something on the back of my neck?”     

I swept her hair out of the way and cocked my head. “No, baby girl, there’s nothing there. But there’s an elastic on the coffee table. If I tie your hair back, that might help?”

“Okay,” she answered me as I reached over and grabbed the aforementioned hair tie. Once her hair was up and out of the way, I saw her relax, and she laid down, her head resting on my thigh. I waited as Abigail gradually fell back asleep, and soon I was staring into the dark, wondering what on Earth could have caused her nightmare. Not that I minded sitting in the dark while she slept. When we’d first moved to Chicago, we’d spent plenty of nights like this. A move to a new country and new city, from Fort Norman, Northwest Territories, which now called itself Tulita, coupled with the fact that so after we’d arrived, she’d been kidnapped by Charles Carver was reason enough to have trouble sleeping. Abigail hadn’t been able to sleep alone for almost three weeks after Ray Vecchio and I had rescued her. Instead, she slept in my bed with Dief curled beside her, and I slept on the floor with my bedroll. Anything to help her feel safe.

I wonder if it’s because the last time there was a huge change and transition in her life, Charles Carver had appeared. Naturally, learning your father has fallen in love with someone else after twenty one years of viduity, and having fallen in love with a man at that, no matter how much she protested that it didn’t bother her, it was bound to be a shock. Never mind that she’d given Innusiq a good tongue lashing for mistreating me all these years, and then had spent a full day traveling back to Chicago. All of that was very taxing on a body and mind.

A few hours later, Ray appeared from our bedroom, rubbing the back of his head. Blinking, we locked eyes, and he nodded, quietly making his way behind the couch to kiss me good morning.

“How’s she doing?”

“Better than a few hours ago,” I answered, turning my head to try and crack my neck. “She had a terrible nightmare; woke up and couldn’t stop crying. She just fell back asleep a few minutes ago. I don’t want to wake her.”

Ray nodded again, pat my shoulder. “You want a coffee? Looks like Abby already made a pot for everyone.”

“Sounds good to me,” I propped my head on my knuckles and rested my elbow on the top of the couch.

I heard Ray go into the kitchen and rummage for two mugs in the cupboard. I knew he was trying to be quiet about it, so as to give Abigail a chance to sleep a little longer, though I imagine that she won’t be waking up anytime soon. She’s so deeply asleep she’s absolutely limp, and judging from how terrified and upset she was, she definitely needs it. I always knew that Charles Carver would come up at the most inopportune times, because such an experience can colour one’s responses to everyday activities. For example, Abigail had never had a problem with wearing blouses, as they matched the skirts she wore to school, but once she’d started back at school after her encounter with him, she’d stopped wearing those, and disappeared into my thick cable knit sweater my grandmother had made me just before I’d gone off to Depot as a sort of survival tactic. Eventually, she asked me if I’d help her find a counselor again, as the sessions she’d had immediately after had helped, and maybe talking to someone else again would do the same thing.

I’d agreed, and soon after starting new sessions, Abigail had enrolled herself in self-defense classes and boxing at Franco Devlin’s gym, and later, a ballroom dance class at a nearby studio. Although I’d been surprised, I could hardly deny her the opportunity to find something that she enjoyed and excelled at. Now, out of the three, she still boxed as a form of exercise, but the ballroom dancing was the only one she’d really kept up. I’d have to tell her that Ray was also a divine dancer.

It’s strange how your mind races when your child is hurting. Ray was very quick in coming back into the living room with our coffees, and he sat himself down in the chair beside the couch after the mugs were on the table. “What was she dreaming about? Did she say?”

“Charles Carver,” I told him, and I saw him wince. I knew Ray had read that file, as he’d had to read all of Ray Vecchio’s files in order to protect the man’s identity while undercover. He knew just how difficult it was for me to talk about it, because as soon as I told him that the Abigail Fraser mentioned in the case notes and reports was indeed my daughter, he’d seen red, and had vowed to do anything necessary to keep Carver in prison. He’d calmed down significantly when I told him that Carver had no chance of parole, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten what he’d said.

“No wonder she was crying,” he whispered as he leaned forward and handed me my mug of coffee. He settled back into the chair just the cordless phone rang. As I was clearly unable to get up to answer it, Ray got up and do so. “Hello, Fraser Residence?”

I saw him listening. “Uh, nope, sorry, she’s busy at the moment. Can I take a message?” He listened again. “Okay, yeah, I’ll tell her you called. Thanks.” He hung up. “Someone called Michael, looking for Abby?”

“Ah.” I knew who Michael was, and as far as I knew, he and Abby were no longer on speaking terms, though I did not know the circumstances that had led to their estrangement. Abby hadn’t chosen to tell me, and I wouldn’t pry, unless it was needed.

Abby mumbled something, stirring. It was so quiet I was sure Ray hadn’t heard, and she’d also said it in Inuktitut. I snorted, and ran my hand over her hair. “Go back to sleep, baby girl. It’s not light out yet.”

She settled back down, further under the blanket she’s pulled off the back of the couch.

I saw Ray smile. “What’d she say?” he took a sip of his coffee.

I looked at Ray as though he had three heads, but then I remembered she’d spoken in Inuktitut, and, as far as I knew, Ray had only heard the language for the first time the night before, when Innusiq had called.

“Something quite unladylike, I can assure you.”

“So that’s why you snorted with laughter?”

“That was a snort of derision, not laughter.”

“You weren’t mocking her, Fraser. And we both know that’s what derision means. Why’d you laugh, then?”

“Let her tell you when she wakes up,” I answered. Judging from her body language, it wouldn’t be much longer. Perhaps she didn’t need as much sleep as I thought she did. “And once she’s up, I can make us all breakfast.”

Abby made a _hmm_ noise and coughed. Moaned and sat up. “Ugh… did you get the number of the truck that ran over me?”

“Sorry, baby girl, just missed it,” I smiled quickly and stretched my legs out, trying to get the circulation back. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I wouldn’t say no to pancakes, fresh coffee, and a shower,” she rubbed her eyes, stretched, and flipped her hair out of her face. “God, I feel terrible.”

“Into the shower with you, then,” I shooed her off. “Go on.” I went into the kitchen and dug into the cupboard, pulling out flour, sugar, and baking powder to start the pancake batter.

“Hey, uh, someone called Michael phoned for you.” Ray told her as she made her way to the bathroom.

I saw her roll her eyes. “I hope you told him to go kick rocks.”

Ray looked to me with a confused look on his face, and no wonder: Abby had spoken in Inuktitut.

“That’s hardly polite, Abigail Fraser,” I called to her, again in Inuktitut. If she was switching languages, clearly this wasn’t something Ray was meant to hear.

“Screw polite, he doesn’t deserve it.” English. We were back to English. She stopped and turned to stare at me, her dark eyes wild with lack of sleep, and I thought I saw tears. “He’s probably calling to offer some excuse, but I don’t think there are many excuses for fucking some other girl in your girlfriend’s dorm room, and on her _bed_ , no less!”

I managed to catch the bowl containing pancake batter before it hit the floor. Dear Lord, no _wonder_ she’d wanted to head straight up to Fort Norman after her exams. It would have been for something resembling a fresh start, even if things with Michael hadn’t been fully resolved.

ooOoo

I looked from Dad to Ray, and back to Dad. I’m sure I looked wild-eyed, and maybe hysterical would be a good word to use as well. I hadn’t actually meant to say anything to either of them, especially since I didn’t really know Ray all that well, but once I started talking, I couldn’t stop.

The phone rang again, and this time, even though I knew it was Michael, I decided I needed to get everything out. He needed to hear what I had to say, and I’d be damned if I didn’t tell him _exactly_ how I felt about his little _rendezvous_ with Miss Legs Up Over Her Head, thank you very much.

Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms over my chest as the phone continued to ring. “Okay, you can chastise me for what I’m about to say later, but for now, just let me say it. Alright?”

Dad shrugged and put the coffee on the table, while Ray made a ‘be my guest’ gesture. I picked up the phone and listened. “Hello? Yes, it’s me, what do you want?”

_I wanted to apologize, Abby._

“Apologize? What could you possibly do that would make me accept your apology?”

_I don’t know what you want me to say, Abby. It’s just… you and I hadn’t had sex for a while, and…”_

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up. _That’s_ your excuse? We _do not_ owe each other sex! Do you have a speech impediment? You couldn’t say “No, thank you but I have a girlfriend?” Is it really that difficult?”

_I just…_

“Don’t answer that, I don’t want to hear it. Just tell me because I didn’t really get a good look at her, who was it?”

A brief silence on the other end. And that silence could only mean one thing.

“Oh my God, it was Elena, wasn’t it? Your lab partner.”

Silence again.

_Shit_! I knew exactly who Elena was. She’d always had a crush on Michael, and took every opportunity to let him know she was interested. She was everything I wasn’t. Medium height, blonde, skinny as a rake, wore high heels everywhere she went, and, if I’m not mistaken, really not all that bright. Rumour had it that she just barely passed the majority of her classes.

“Damn it!” I swore down the phone. “You know I heard everything she said about me, don’t you?” I didn’t wait for his answer. “All the times she asked you what you were doing with a frigid Eskimo when you could have her any time you wanted, and if you _did_ do anything, I’d never have to know. Do you think I’m deaf?”

_I…_  he was stumbling for words again. _I don’t know what to do here, Abby. Except to tell you I’m sorry._

Those words hit me like a freight train. I damn well knew he wasn’t sorry for having cheated, he was sorry I’d caught him out. Luckily, I managed to keep my anger under control, although I already knew I didn’t have a tight reign on it.

“Pull the other one, it’s got bells on,” I answered him, my blood boiling. “You’re now going to do these two things. Number One: you are going to lose my name. Number two: you are going to lose my number, because I don’t what to hear from you again. And number three…”

_You said there were only two things._

“I lied,” I spat. “Number three is this: _go fuck yourself, you racist asswipe!”_ I quickly hung up and slammed the phone down into its charging station. I felt my arms turn to jelly and my legs start to shake. “Oh God, I feel dirty…” I looked over to see Dad and Ray stunned into absolute silence, frozen in place. Frankly, I was just thankful no one was talking, and no one moved to try and comfort me. “I’m going to go take a shower. A really long one. But, uh, before I do… Dad, will you get me a few garbage bags?”

He nodded dumbly. The entire apartment was silent as I turned and made my way into the bathroom, locking the door and pulling on the hot water tap.

ooOoo

“Damn, poor Abby,” I was only slightly cognizant of my lover walking toward me. I’m not even sure that’s what he’d said, I was so bowled over by Abby’s phone call. I had no idea what to do, or how to help her. Even if she didn’t _want_ help right at that moment, I needed to do _something._

I felt Ray’s hand on my cheek, turning my head to make me look at him. “You in there?”

“I… I don’t know what to do,” I stuttered. “All that was going on and I didn’t know anything about it. What’s worse is that I can’t do anything to help her through it.”

“None of that is your fault, Ben,” Ray would not let me turn away. “Not one bit of it. Plus, you’re her _dad_. I don’t know many people who would want their dads to know something like this.” He kissed me quickly. “Let me talk to her. I may be able to help.”

“But…”

“Let me talk to her,” Ray repeated. “It might be better for her to have an outsider perspective on the whole thing.”

“You’re not an outsider, Ray.”

“Not to you, no. But to her? Yeah I am, especially since I just met her yesterday. And I’m an outsider in regards to the situation. I didn’t know the guy, whereas you’d probably met him, right?”

“Right.”

“So there you go,” Ray dropped his hand. “Plus, you’ve never had a relationship implode on you before. And before you argue, you and June? Not the same thing. Me? I’ve had a relationship implode, with disastrous results.”

“You and Stella?” I managed.

“Me and Stella,” he confirmed, putting his arms around me and pulling me close. “The difference here is that I fell in love with you, even if it was a year later. Hell, I’ve always wanted a family. I’ve got one now. I’ve been pretty damn lucky, all things considered. Anyway, once she’s finished doing what she needs to do in the bathroom, I’ll give her an hour or so before I knock on her door. You alright with that?”

“It’s not up to me.” And that part was true, it wasn’t. If Abby wanted to talk, she’d do so when she was ready. “We’ve got to let her tell us what she needs us to do.”

In any case, Abby emerged from the bathroom an hour later, as Ray and I sat at the table playing a hand of poker. The air heavy with emotion, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her stop and stare at us momentarily before she went back into her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

That was when I knew she was really upset. As a teenager, she’d done the same thing I was sure the majority of teenagers did: when she was upset, she slammed doors and stomped, wanting me to fix whatever was bothering her but at the same time, pushed me away. It was during those times I knew they were cases of teenage hormones going out of control, and after a while, she’d be able to talk about it. The times where she got quiet when she was angry… I knew that things were going from bad to worse. It was during those times in particular I would wish June were still alive. There were simply some things that daughters could not speak to their fathers about. If June had still been here, perhaps she would have had some idea about how to handle things.

Half an hour later, Ray put his cards down, and got up. He clasped my shoulder, grabbed the garbage bags she’d asked for, and walked back toward the bedrooms. He knocked on Abby’s door.

“Abby? Can I come in?”

I heard a muffled sound, and Ray opened the door, making a point of keeping it open as he disappeared from my line of sight. Determined not to interrupt or intrude, I decided to start on cleaning up the kitchen and and boiling water for tea and coffee.

We’d all need it soon enough, I was sure of it.

ooOoo

Abby’s room is dark, the blinds closed and the lamp unplugged, and perhaps that’s exactly what she needs. She’s sitting on the floor, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt three sizes too big for her, her knees drawn up to keep her face hidden, her hair still dripping wet from the shower.

“Hey Abby…” I whispered, quietly approaching her. “It okay if I sit down?”

“Sure,” she sniffed, then lifted her head up. Oh yeah, she’d definitely been crying. She looked over to her nightstand and grabbed a tissue from the box, blowing hard and tossing it into the wastebasket. “I’m sorry, Ray, I’m being such a baby.”

“No you’re not, Abby. Believe me, this is totally tame compared to some of the reactions I’ve seen people have when something like this happens. Sometimes it gets really bad. Hell, I had quite a few case as a beat cop where the reactions were much worse than this, and I had to step in.”

She sniffed again and grabbed another tissue. “I feel dirty. Almost as if, no matter how much I shower, I won’t be clean again. And I brought the sheets and pillowcases from my dorm room home, but I can’t stand to use them again. Not after I saw what I did…” her shoulder started shaking again. “I want to burn them, so I never have to see them again. At the very least, bleach the ever-loving Hell out of them. God, I’m so _stupid,_ Ray! How did I not see this coming?”

“Hey, hey…” I lift her chin and look her in the eyes. Damn, Ben is right. I’ve seen pictures of June, and Abby could be June’s clone. “You are not dirty, Abby. And you are not stupid. No one ever wants to believe that the person they’re in love with would cheat. In any case, this Michael guy was a dickhead, and he treated you terribly.”

She lets out a sob, and leans into my shoulder. The only thing I can think to do is hug her tightly, and she doesn’t resist. I hold her until she manages to breathe normally again, and soon the room is still and quiet.

“Ray, I… I can’t ask Dad this, but…”

“But?”

“Do you ever get that feeling in your chest, that if you let something sit there and do nothing about it, it’ll eat you alive?”

Did I ever. “That’s called heartbreak, kiddo.” I run my hand over her hair. “It’ll fade over time. Right now it fucking hurts, but you’ve got to feel that hurt in order to accept it and move on.” I wait for her to say something, and when I don’t hear anything, I continue. “When you’re ready, you can decide what’s going into those garbage bags you asked for.”  

She sighs and lets out a sob once again. I have a feeling there’s going to be a lot of this over the next couple of days, and all Ben and I can do is let her do whatever she needs to do in order to move on, whether that’s crying, working out, walking, writing, reading... I know it’s going to take a while, but she’s young. She’s got time on her side.

Time, a Mountie, and a Chicago cop, come to think of it.

When she goes quiet again, I rub her shoulder to get her attention.

“I smell coffee. What do you say we go back out there and rescue your Dad from his thoughts, hmm?”

Abby chuckles, gets up, and waits until I stand before moving again.

“After you,” I say, and she chuckles again. Once we’re both back out in the living room, I hang back and watch as Abby walks right to Ben and hugs him tightly.

He grunts with the force of it, and gently strokes Abby’s hair as we lock eyes over her shoulder.

“Thank you, Ray,” he mouths as Abby lets go of him, turns, and looks at me. The look in her eyes says it all. She’s thanking me too, even if she can’t bring herself to say so right at that moment.

Yeah, Ben and Abby are definitely my family. I’m a lucky guy.


End file.
